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All 07.4 - Midnight Conversation
It was late into the night when Victor felt a tapping that woke him up. He jolted upright with a start from his bedroll on the floor, opting to sleep there despite the bed literally 5 feet away. It took him a second to resolve his surroundings, namely that it was Lucca who had woken him. "Hmm?" He blinked away his sleepiness. "Is something wrong?" "I...kinda need to talk, if that's alright? Sorry for waking you..." There was a strange intensity to the stare he had fixed on Victor; he seemed almost to be looking right through him. Over the past few days, the druid had settled back into his old self, but tonight the tension around him was almost palpable. "Mmph, that's alright, I'm getting rather used to it," he whispered as he got up. "Let's go before we wake Virgil." The young child was already sleeping reasonably though most of the night, probably because he wasn't exactly a newborn when Victor had begun raising him. The two quietly moved into the hall and down to the sitting room, leaving the door open in case Virgil cried. Victor sat down; he yawned and shook off the last of his sleep. "What's on your mind?" he asked, turning his full attention towards the druid. "How do you deal with not knowing if you are who you think you are? Or if you are what you think you are? How do you...like...keep your shit together with that hanging over your head?" as he spoke, Lucca continued to stare fixedly through the other man. Victor blinked at this, then sat back in his chair. He pondered this for a few minutes, then replied, "I...don't know, honestly. At first, I had nothing. No memories. No past. No future. There was nothing but darkness and Bethany's madness...and suffering far worse than my own. Who I was didn't matter, so there was nothing to deal with. When I was set free...that's when it was the worst. I still had so little, and now the world was so much bigger. Who I was, what I wanted to do, it suddenly mattered, because otherwise, I wouldn't be anything. I spent hours, days, sitting and agonizing it. It's why I didn't leave my house. What was the point to doing anything at all, really, if I didn't know what my purpose was? No one was forthcoming with direction. In the end, I needed something, or I knew I really would just sit and waste away. So I focused on the few things I did know. They were all that mattered. They were what I knew about myself, so they were everything. I knew I was a swordsman. I knew I was a vassal. That was enough, to start an identity. Then...time just kept passing, things kept happening, and I kept learning more things. There's still so much I don't know. I don't know who, or what I was before, if anything. I don't fully know who or what I am now. But I know my own mind. I know my abilities, if not the limits of them. I know of my weaknesses, my strengths...and I know that I will keep learning more. I suppose that's enough for me." Lucca listened intently as Victor spoke, nodding as he finished speaking. He mused thoughtfully, almost to himself, "So you really just...took what you had and rolled with it...and hoped for the best...and it's been working out pretty alright so far, yeah? I mean, you've been keeping your shit together damn well, considering." Suddenly his odd gaze locked on Victor's, "Are you afraid? Or were you? Or just lost?" He looked thoughtful again, and replied, "I was...a bit afraid, I suppose. Afraid that there was some role, some purpose, some...thing, I was supposed to be doing, but was neglecting because I couldn't recall it." He paused, his gaze now looking far away at nothing, "I...was afraid that I was just Victor Erzebet. That I really had nothing more than an empty life that was irrevokably, utterly ruined. That I was just supposed to go back to that house and live there like nothing happened. Like I belonged, when I knew that I never, ever would, if I ever had before." He stopped, thoughtful again, then he gave a small 'heh', his eyes turning back to Lucca. "I suppose those were fears. They pale in comparison to the fear of being told that you have a baby to care for." He looked up at the ceiling, towards where Virgil was sleeping, "I guess there isn't a whole lot of time to be worried about your own problems, when you have someone else's to worry about." The younger man followed his gaze upwards, his expression taking on something of an uneasy cast. "I can imagine..." he murmered, suddenly dropping his eyes to the floor and fiddling with a loose thread at the hem of his shirt. "Regardless, the more I do, the more I learn about myself. What I care about, what I want to do and be. I have no 'was' to define me, so the more current memories I have, the less I feel I need the older ones. I still wonder about them, don't get me wrong. I want to know who I was and what I am. I want to know why my house, when seen in Etheria, is obviously from Yeto." He stopped and said in a lower voice, "...Yeto, Yeto, I hadn't told you about Yeto yet, remind me later, it's off-topic. At any rate," he continued again, "I am curious about my old memories, but I don't need them to be someone." He paused, thoughtful, "...That's the other fear, I suppose you'd call it. If I suddenly had all of my memories back, maybe I'd find I was an entirely different person, and where would I be then? If I knew, not just knew but remembered, that I spent 40 years caring about entirely other things, what would I care about then? What if I'm a devil and am a different sort of person entirely, and I'm only acting this way because I'm bound to be like Victor was? It's..." he trailed off. With a sigh, he continued, "It's disconcerting to think that maybe one day I will wake up and find that the things I care about now, I no longer find important. But I suppose that is life, really; everyone changes interests and pursuits, just for me I assume it will be more abrupt." He sighed again, "If I'm a different person later who can't decide which of his past personas he wants to be like, that's a problem for my next iteration. I have enough to concern myself with presently than to worry about what my future self will be like." He turned back to Lucca, "I'm afraid I've been rambling. Is there something that's bothering you?" "That's...some pretty heavy shit, dude...jeeze..." he looked pensive for a moment before glancing over somewhat nervously at the other man's question. "I...yes. I just..." he paused and looked around the room, biting at his lip as he searched for a way to begin. Taking a deep breath, he asked, "You know how, when you look in the mirror, you see yourself, all normal and shit like you should be, right? And then everything else, you see how it is in Etheria?" He paused for a moment, a slight quaver to his voice as he continued "Yeah...I don't. Like...even when I first grabbed the damn thing, my reflection...wasn't me. Everyone else looks right in it...but..." he trailed off, darting a glance at Victor, before suddenly changing course, "And then like, that freaky harlequin fucker, he shows up, and he just like...is obsessed with it, right? And he just wouldn't leave it be, and he gets talking and shit...and that was really ''shitty..." Trailing off once more, he took another deep breath, his eyes flitting about the room. Victor listened patiently until Lucca's voice peetered out before replying, "That...is a particularly vicious mirror. Any mirror can do it though. I hadn't seen a mirror, until that night you freed me from the basement. I had no idea what I looked like. I didn't know I was part elf. I didn't know my hair was greying, or what colour my eyes were. There were no mirrors in the cell. My reflection was foreign. Was it a picture of me? I didn't think so. I'm a devil, not an aging half-elf noble with a ruined life. Mirrors will tell you all sorts of terrible things, if you let them. They only know your face, not your mind. People will do the same, the people that only know your appearance. Particularly vicious mask-wearing fey that feed on emotions. What does he really know about you? What does the mirror really know about you? Less than yourself, I'd wager." The druid made a small, disconsolant noise and shook his head. "Yeah but...no. No, 'cause like...they might know less but like..." He paused and once again suddenly switched tack, "You ever have something where you know it doesn't smell right, but you don't wanna deal with it so you just sorta like...don't? You're all 'if I don't look it's not there?' And you just sorta, keep doing that?" The stare he locked on the other man was no longer distant, but rather, painfully earnest. This garnered a serious look from Victor as he searched his memories. Eventually, he replied, "I suppose I played a three day game of hide-and-seek with a stork because I wasn't ready to deal with something. But, the crux of that issue, and really any issue, is that eventually you're going to have to deal with whatever you're ignoring. And you can either face the stork on your own terms, or wait until you're trapped in a hole and have no other options. I think most issues are better dealt with when you're the one in control, not someone else, or the situation." He rolled his eyes, "I probably shouldn't have picked an example where I did the opposite of what I'm saying. Regardless, if you're the one making the choice to deal with an issue, you'll feel better than if someone else forces you to confront it, especially if they try to exploit your ignorance. And I believe that everyone's issues will always be forced upon them eventually." Once more, the younger man made a small, unhappy noise, sinking deeper into his chair, "I guess so...I dunno...I mean like, I'm sure you're right..." Dropping his voice, he mumbled, "I just have a hard time imagining how it could feel any worse..." Victor looked at him with concern. "...Well, what is it exactly that's making you feel so terrible? Is it the image itself that bothers you, or just that it's not what you believe it should be? Or is it something more to do with what the fey said? Maybe...I could help more if I better knew the problem?" "It's..." he stopped and took a couple deep breaths, collecting his thoughts, "I...whenever I shift...when I want to go back, I...ugh...it's hard to explain to someone who doesn't...but...I like...make a mental picture, and I focus, and then I shift, kay? And so to go back to looking like myself, I do the same shit...always have, it's just how I learned to do it when I was a kid. Always worked fine, so I guess I never thought to do anything differently..." He paused, fiddling with one of his dreadlocks, continuing slowly, "So Mr. Freaky Fuckface shows up, right? And he's all jumping around and being an ass and all, and he keeps being like 'Whatcha doin'? Why you got a mask on?' and I tell him to go fuck himself, but he wont leave...and he just keeps. fucking. coming. back. to. it." He pursed his lips for a moment, closing his eyes, "Thing is...I wasnt shifted. At all. At any point." Opening his eyes once more, he stared up at the ceiling, "And then later...after you bitched him out...I'm sitting and thinking...and I realize...I've never once dispelled my shifting magic...I always just go back and forth, but I'd never just gone 'Alright magic, peace, we're done here, talk to ya later'." His voice caught slightly as he finished, and he dropped his gaze once more. The other man regarded him with concern, waiting patiently for him to continue, not wanting to say the wrong thing or make an assumption. It was quite some time before Lucca spoke again, his gaze locked on the floor, voice quiet. "I just kept thinking and thinking on that...and on something else the fey had said...and about something you'd said a while back about knowing oneself..." he swallowed hard, "So finally I found the balls to say 'fuck it, let's do this,' and then...I...it just...fuck..." He dropped his head into his hands, when he continued his voice was strained and somewhat muffled, "And now I don't know what the hell to do...or even fucking think...everything is fucked up so hard now though. I don't know what to do." Victor got up, walked over to Lucca and knelt down in front of him, to better look at his face. "You're no different than you were before. You are the same man, with the same goals. You are still a druid, a druid who wants to balance nature and civilization. You can still shift at will, you can still work magic, you can still do everything you could a week ago. You have the same job, the same family, and the same friends. Focus on that, to start. You have lost nothing. You have gained some knowledge, perhaps not the most positive knowledge, right now, but nothing important has been lost." "No...you don't understand..." shaking his head, he took a deep shuddering breath, "My tattoos are gone...without them I have no proof that I'm part of the Order, or ever was and ''worse, I've lost everything they said...I can't remember it all, that's why it was written down!...It's not like I can just walk down the street and find someone to redo them! ...and then how the fuck am I supposed to balance nature and civilization if I'm not even a part of it really? I'm not natural...I don't even bleed right for fuck's sake! And then...then...there's the blood I didn't even know I had on my hands..." He bit his lip to stop its trembling and turned his face away from the other man, "It's all a fucking mess!" Victor, reaching up, tilted Lucca's face by the chin back towards him, "There is no mess that cannot be cleaned." The touch elicited a small shudder from the younger man. He withdrew his hand, "Cast a spell. Anything." "Wha-...what?" he blinked. Victor reiterated his request; Lucca took a deep breath, closing his eyes to better focus. He murmured under his breath, and as he finished with a small gesture of the hand, a pale green glow surrounded the other man. Opening his eyes once more, Lucca looked at him in askance. "There," Victor gave a small smile of encouragement, and put his hand on Lucca's knee, "You can still use magic. If you truly, honestly, were not a druid, if you had somehow broken your vows or offended the gods of nature, then they wouldn't empower you. You are just as much a druid to them as you ever were. You still know everything you needed to pass your initiation, so I am sure that there is no druid, presented with that, who would deny that you are one of them. The only issue then, is your tattoo. You cannot possibly be the first druid who needed it redrawn. What if one had their arm taken off in an accident? Would they cease to be a druid? Of course not. There is almost certainly precedent for the Order to replace your tattoos. It's only a matter of finding out how, and that is something that can be done. "Next, you are certainly still part of both nature and civilization. You are a sentient man, in a city, with a job. You couldn't be more a part of civilization, unless you started paying taxes. As for nature, you are very obviously a part of that as well. Everything made on this plane is natural, by definition. If you were actually an extraplanar creature, you wouldn't sleep, you wouldn't breathe, and you certainly wouldn't eat the amount you have to. That's what natural things do. Not every natural thing bleeds the same way, even I know that. Are insects unnatural? Plants? No, just different. You may be different than you thought, but you are still certainly a being of Materia. Now," he added the final part more gently, "what's this about blood on your hands?" Lucca watched him earnestly as he spoke, offering a very slight nod each time Victor offered a solid point, settling visibly as he went on. Although he clearly remained deeply troubled, the older man's words seemed to have soothed him somewhat. His eyes took on a deep sadness as he answered somberly, his voice barely above a whisper, "I'm...a monster from the legends...the spawn of spirits that behave like cuckoo birds...I have to be...that's the only explanation that makes sense. Which means that someone had to be taken that I might be here..." "Oh, Lucca..." Victor said, pain in his voice. "Don't. Don't blame yourself for that. There's..." he struggled with the words. He bowed his head forward, "There are so, so many reasons, that you should not carry that weight. You were a baby; you did nothing wrong. You don't know that anyone else died; if you took the place of another, maybe the fey just carried the child elsewhere, and left him somewhere to be raised. Perhaps the child died naturally; your grandmother said that you were born very ill, unlikely to survive the night, and you suddenly recovered. Maybe the fey found the baby already dead, and left you there to take his place, sparing your parents grief. The fey aren't evil, just...wild. And, even if some baby did die, it's on the hands of others, not yours. You killed no one." He looked up and looked very hard into Lucca's eyes, "And you are not a monster. Don't call yourself that. Because you are not." Lucca held his gaze for a few seconds, his expression disconsolant. Without responding, he shrugged slightly and swallowed hard, looking away. After a moment, with a mutter and a guesture he dispelled the glow from around the other man. Victor, face full of concern, watched him for bit before offering, "I don't know. I don't know the best way to handle this. I don't know what would make you feel better. It's confusing, and painful, and I want to help. I...hmn...I wish I could say that you should just ignore it, never unshift and carry on like nothing happened. But, I don't think that would make anything better. I honestly don't. I think...you have to accept yourself. It won't be fast, or easy, but...it's easier to learn more, than to try and pretend you don't know something. Maybe, I don't know," he fidgeted with his hands a bit, "maybe just try unshifting when you're doing something? Don't stand in front of a mirror and obsess, but, if you're reading or talking or doing something that's keeping your mind distracted, practice unshifting then? Maybe if you do that, it won't feel so...disconnected? Some way to...reinforce in your mind the fact that you're still you, no matter what you look like, without making a production out of it. I guess...the more you can get used to the idea, the less it will hurt to think about it." Lucca's gaze whipped back to the older man, and he stared at him with a look of utter horror. It took a few tries before he eventually managed to find his voice again, "I...I don't know...you don't understand...I...It's just..." he trailed off, and it was a moment before he finished, mumbling with uncharacteristic self-conciousness "...not cool. If someone sees..." "Well, you don't have to shift in front of people. I guess...I don't know, I can't profess to know much about shapeshifting, but, it seems like...clothes. It's perfectly normal, to dress up in particular clothes and makeup and hairstyles before letting people see you, because it's about tailoring your appearance so that people see you how you want them to see you. But...if you feel like you need to wear your clothes into the bath, you're really trying to hide from yourself. That's what's going to keep hurting. And..." he paused, "and someone will see you eventually. It's back to what I said, about trying to avoid issues. Eventually, they come up. What if...I don't know...we're in some sort of...anti-magic, dispelling dungeon in the Underdark, or we're accosted by some sort of fey or wizard and you're forced to unshift? Isn't it better to at least try to come to terms with it when you don't have to answer to anyone, and you don't have to deal with other things as well, rather then ignoring it and having it come up at an awful time?" At this, the druid made a small noise of displeasure, fidgeting slightly. "Fuck." he heaved a heavy sigh and scowled slightly, "You have a point....ugh..." Victor made a sidelong look and said, muttering slightly, "...And, if you want your tattoo to be permanent, they're going to have to put it on your arm when you aren't shifted..." This earned him a frustrated growl, "I know...I know...fucking hell!..." he rubbed at his face with both hands and sighed again. The older man gave a thoughtful look, then leaned back and stood up. "Well. Here's what I think. I think I'm going to go into the kitchen and make tea and sandwiches. I think you should come and eat some tea and sandwiches. If you would like to unshift, then I will not make a deal of it, and just maybe it won't feel like such a hugely terrible ordeal, because at least one person won't make a scene. If you would rather not, that is perfectly fine, and you should still come and eat some sandwiches, because they might make you feel better. And because I don't know how to make anything else." He turned and walked towards the kitchen, adding, "Someday I should probably learn." When he turned the corner, he added, "And if you could check on Virgil, that would be appreciated." Dropping his hands slightly, Lucca stared at him in bewilderment, before rolling his eyes slightly and shaking his head. He got to his feet as well, "You're ridiculous, old man. Sandwiches sound fucking fantastic right about now." He followed him out of the room, continuing as he headed for the stairs, "Hey, you didn't say oatmeal, so I ain't gonna bitch about it. Progress made and all, right? I'll be right back." Victor proceeded to putter about the kitchen, making some fast sandwiches of blackberry jam and placing them on the table before proceeding to set water to boil for tea and to prepare grilled sandwiches: tomato for Lucca, cheese for himself. He made significantly more of one than the other. A quick check on Virgil found the child sleeping soundly. Lucca lingered for a moment in the quiet darkness of the room, absently watching him sleep, grateful to have a few moments alone with his thoughts. With a soft sigh, he left and headed back down to the kitchen. "Kid's fine, he's solidly passed out." His eyes fell on the plate of sandwiches on the table, then moved to those still in production, "Shit dude, you've figured out what's up." Dropping into a chair, he snagged one and began concertedly demolishing it, a rather distant look on his face. "Yes, I can demonstrate the capacity to learn, from time to time." He held a piece of tomato and seemed to consider it deeply for a moment before putting it on a cheese sandwich and placing it in the pan. He received a distracted snort, by way of response. Seemingly deep in thought, Lucca attacked the plate of jam sandwiches with a singular intensity while Victor cooked. It was as he was making his way through the final one that he muttered under his breath, "Fuck it..." and closing his eyes for a moment, dispelled the magic, making a slight face as he unshifted. Opening his eyes once more, he kept a laserlike stare locked on the table and kept eating. Victor turned around to the table. "Ooh, timed that well." He took the empty plate, put the first few tomato sandwiches on it and put it back in front of Lucca. "Tea should be about ready too," he added as he moved the pot and cups to the table too. Lucca flinched when Victor first spoke, but relaxed slightly when he realized that the other man was simply babbling about sandwiches and tea. Grateful for the appearance of more food, he continued for some time to focus on eating as if it were a matter of life and death. The man continued cooking, until there were two sandwiches for him, and a small pile for Lucca. With that finished, he sat down at the table as well. Lucca glanced up somewhat apprehensively when Victor joined him. "I put a tomato on this one," Victor said, matter-of-factly, taking a bite. He seemed to consider it for a while, even by his slow eating standards, before slowly nodding his head. "I will declare this to be an advancement of my cooking abilities," he said, and poured himself some tea. Lucca snorted at his assessment of the sandwich. "Truly, you're a-" the strange, tinny sound of his own voice stopped him mid-word, and he made a face, abandoning the thought in favor of another bite of sandwich. "A gourmet chef, yes. I couldn't have put it better," he finished the sentence with a look of exaggerated smugness. "So, Yeto. Apparently, there's someone who knows who I am there. I..." he sighed, "...I am something of a complete idiot, and didn't actually think to ask their name, because as we've determined, when I make mistakes, they are large, glaring and idiotic. But when we, Caitlyn, Cheko and I, were leaving the hotel in Hikon City, a man there took interest in me. He knew my name, and of Bethany, though not of her death. He made several leading statements about business deals with her. There's apparently something to be learned in Yeto, though I know not what." Lucca looked up at him once more, his interest clearly piqued. "Seriously? All that, and you didn't think to ask the bastard's name? You're a dumbass, well done." He shook his head, wincing slightly at the sound of his own voice once more. Brushing back a stray bit of hair from his face, he tried to ignore it and carried on, "Remind me not to let you out on your own anymore. What sort of shit do you think he was up to anyway? That's kinda fucked up that someone over there would know anything about anyone over here, even rich dudes...I mean, fuck, I couldn't name a single Yeto dude if my life depended on it. That shit's weird..." he paused, looking thoughtful, "And hell...how the hell did he even know you were over there in the first place? That's fucked too..." Victor got a bit of a distant look. "He knows about the summoning. The way he talked, he knew too much. I was taken off-guard. He is involved with Bethany's dealings with Hell. I just don't know how. As to how he knew I was there, I don't know. Scrying, possibly. It might have something to do with how my tattoos reacted. As soon as we arrived in Materia, it was," he winced at the memory, "as though every single rune on my body burned. It lasted several minutes before it faded. I thought maybe it had something to do with plane shifting. Maybe it was something else." "Are you fucking kidding me?" he shot the older man an indignant look,"You just...didn't think to mention this shit earlier? The hell is wrong with you?!" scowling, he leaned across the table to peer at his tattoos, muttering, "Seriously! Dumb. Ass." With a sigh, he sat back in his chair, "Did they bug you when you went to Etheria? Or just when you came back?" "Only on the return. They were utterly normal while in Etheria the entire time." He sipped his tea, "Perhaps it is linked to something in Hikon then...or perhaps Yeto as a whole. We'll have to investigate further...if you want to," he added as an afterthought. "Of course I want to...duh..." he shook his head, "Sooner rather than later, honestly. It's not that hard to get there, is it? You guys took the LT to get back?" Victor nodded, "LT to Nagaoka, a day or two travel from there. Cheko had plenty of speed-enhancing magic, so it went quickly." He paused to take a sip of tea. "And, in my defense, it didn't seem particularly pressing. It's not like Hikon is going anywhere. The man will need to be tracked down in either case. When I got back, I was preoccupied with Virgil, you know that. I was in Etheria for a while, despite it being a short time here. I will be...less apt to abandon him in the future, now knowing that what should have been an afternoon became functional weeks. Not that I'd want him to be in Etheria with me. Not that I'd wish anyone to Etheria." He frowned slightly. "It is a stupid place." Lucca tilted his head as the other man continued, "I know, but still..." shaking his head once more, he switched gears, "You were there for weeks, eh? Time passes that much slower in Etheria?" "There is no time there at all. It could have gone one way or the other; it could have been weeks for me and minutes for you, or the opposite. I was lucky. Better I miss Virgil for weeks than the other way around. And I'd like to think you'd miss me at least some," he added with a grin. The younger man made a face and stuck out his tongue at this, "As if! You fucking wish, old man." After a moment, he continued thoughtfully. "That's weird...I...can't say I envy you..... that's a fuckton of time. From what I've seen, I wouldn't want to spend minutes in the damn place. What the hell did you do ''for that long?" For the first time that evening, glimmer of mischief lit his eyes, "You didn't fuck more birds, did you?" Victor opened his mouth to say something, then sort of slunk back a bit and became very interested in a sandwich. He muttered something unintelligible, his gaze firmly on the bread. Lucca watched him for a moment before letting out an eerie, tittering laugh, "You've ''got to be fucking kidding! Seriously?" he lapsed into giggles for a moment, "Like, actually? Is that just a thing that you do now?" "Alright, you're the druid, you tell me why birds keep throwing themselves at me!" He grumbled with some embarassment to his sandwich, "Don't know what I did...bird women climbing all over me...didn't have any choice, she wasn't going to tell me where the city was, wasn't going to leave me alone..." He added more clearly, "And it wasn't a bird, it was a harpy." Still giggling, he looked thoughtful for a few moments, "Honestly? In my professional opinion, it's 'cause you're basically a bird-lady's dream dude. I mean, you walk in, all fancy pants and shit, act all manly and chase the dude birds away, and then start acting polite, and you look after babies. That's basically the entire checklist of what birds dig, straight up." Adding with a teasing grin, "And I guess your face isnt quite ''offensive enough to scare them off, either." Victor made a drawn-out 'uuuugh' sound and rubbed his temples, "I suppose that makes...sense." Lucca paused, raising an eyebrow and shooting him a critical look, "Wait...what? A harpy? Aren't those like...legit half-bird? With like, feathers and talons and shit? Eugh!" "Yes. Yes she was. It was...mechanically awkward. And for the benefit of your undoubtedly-appreciated mental picture, she was a vulture," he said. He made a sarcastic look. "She wasn't unattractive, if you focused on the waist up." With mock brightness, he added, "It's a good thing I have neither dignity nor shame! Otherwise, my life might be upsetting! Which reminds me: do you have the mirror on you? Could I see it for a moment? I want to check something." He held out his hand. The younger man just stared at him in open-mouthed horror for a long moment before slowly putting down the sandwich he was working on with a small, unsettled frown. "Eh? Oh...yeah, here." He handed over the mirror. He took it and began to look about the kitchen. "Well, apparently the tea set is from Yeto too..." he mumbled. "I picked up some stragglers while in Etheria. I'd like to think that they're gone but somehow..." he trailed off. He got up, and took a piece of bread from the counter. Placing it on the floor, he walked over to stand beside Lucca. He crouched to be level with the sitting man and held up the mirror, angling it so that it showed them the bread but neither of their faces. "I believe I'm being haunted," he said with an air of sarcasm. "So don't look straight at them, and maybe they'll come out." The two waited for some time, and nothing happened. Just as Lucca was about to say something, he caught the sight of movement. As he watched, five small, fluffy creatures bounced out from the periphery of the reflection. They looked something like rodents, with a pudgy, round shape, but seemed to have no limbs, moving instead through rolling and hopping; they had large ears and eyes, small puffy tails, and each one had fur in a different pastel colour. As they watched, they began to eat the bread, revealing their inordinately large mouths. "Quite an infestation, apparently. I think there are about 15 of them? Unless they're replicating or something." "...You've gotta be kidding me. Seriously? How the hell did you come up with these guys?" he watched them for a few moments longer before grumbling. "So not fair. You get to be haunted by fluffy bunny things; I got Sir Freaky Fuckface. And I didn't even ''go to the damn place, ugh." "Well, to be fair, I had my turn with him as well. He was in the house with me the whole time I was waiting there. He scared them right off though, I didn't know if they left outright or were just hiding. That answers that question." He chuckled, "They're apparently, as far as I was told, attracted to evil creatures. They follow things with evil souls around and bother them, steal things, and otherwise interfere with them. They are quite literally creatures with the sole purpose of annoying, disturbing and humiliating cruel people. Joke's on you, bunny things, I have no dignity left to ruin! Only food." He turned to Lucca, "I have no idea how to fey-proof my cupboards. I need a ghost-cat or something." "Well, isnt that just fun? I dunno what to do for ya though, man. I don't got no ghost-cats, last I checked, sorry. I could go find Keesik and leave her here, if you think that'd help, but that's the best I can do." He shrugged, looking thoughtful, "Actually, I probably should do that anyway...it's started getting real cold out there..." "As long as she doesn't disturb Virgil, I don't mind," he replied, handing the mirror back to Lucca. He walked back over to his chair and sat down. "I doubt she'd do much about the bunnies, but I won't fault her for that." "Mmmh, I figured, ah well. Maybe I'll go look for her tomorrow," as he finished, he let out a rather exceptional yawn, rubbing at his face with one hand. "You should also probably go visit your grandmother. I'm sure she'd love you to drop in, and you could probably use a cookie-flavoured distraction. Get out of Arlington for a bit, get the mask fey out of your mind. And if you could thank her for the lovely quilt for me, I'd appreciate it." At this Lucca pursed his lips, then sighed. "I guess so...maybe not tomorrow. Too soon. But yeah, I should...maybe in the next few days. I'll let you know when I'm gonna go, in case you need anything from out that way...any more questions for her or whatever." Victor nodded and yawned as well. "We should probably get some rest. Virgil will be up before I know it." Lucca stood up and stretched slightly, nodding. "Yeah. Go to bed, old man, I'll clean this shit up." Beginning to stack plates, he added, "Sorry again for waking you up..." The older man nodded towards the plates, "Thank you, that's appreciated. And don't worry about waking me. I mean what I say; anytime is anytime. I'm glad to help however I can." He stood up. Biting his lip slightly, he added, "If I may, would you afford me two comments? I will never bring it up again." "Mmmh?" Lucca paused in the midst of stacking their teacups, looking at him questioningly, "Go for it, what's up?" "First: how, in the name of Riast, can you possibly eat what you do and still look like a starving orphan? It's no wonder you're hungry all the time. I swear, I'm going to find the most fattening vegetable and start lacing everything you eat with it." He moved towards the doorway and added, "Second," he added with a grin, "you have magnificent hair." Lucca stared at him for a long moment, his expression somewhere between astonishment and self-conciousness before barking testily, "Piss off and mind your own business, geezer!" Although he attempted to level a scowl at the older man, its effect was undermined by the glimmer of gratitude in his eyes. Victor smiled, "I'll do that. Good-night Lucca. Let me know if you need anything." He turned and headed upstairs. As he reached the upper floor, he heard Lucca call his name. At the foot of the stairs, the druid waited for him to turn before continuing somewhat hesitantly, "Thank you...for everything. Goodnight." Category:Advent of the All